


There is always a wrong turn on the road (and sometimes you take it)

by consumedly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Criminal Derek Hale, Criminal Hales, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Implied Violence, M/M, Multi, Underage Drug Use, Underage Prostitution, Underage Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, justification of drug use, justification of prostitution, power differential, prostitution for drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumedly/pseuds/consumedly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows now that there is not a way out.</p><p>There never was but he liked to pretend that there was a door number three for a while anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is always a wrong turn on the road (and sometimes you take it)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Everyone is Human!AU. Jackson is addicted to the new narcotic called Wolf's Bane that gives the recipient some werewolf-like abilities: an increase in strength, hearing, eyesight, reaction speed, and endurance/stamina. Due to his inferiority/superiority complex, Jackson uses the drug to prove to everyone (but mostly himself) that he's not worthless/is better than everyone else. Derek is the shady drug dealer who lives in a burnt out house (the fire happened, but it was due to a meth lab exploding since Derek comes from a family of drug dealers). However, Derek doesn't want just cash from the rich boy. He wants Jackson to pay with his wallet as well as his ass and Jackson is desperate enough for his tri-weekly fix to give both.
> 
> This prompt is all kinds of fucking awesome and I still want to play with it but this is what I could write in the little free time that I managed to snatch away from RL. I hope that you don't mind that I bended it here and there but no matter how much I tried to stick to the promt this is the closest I got.
> 
> There is rape, non cone and drugs etc. please read the warnings/tags and bear in mind that I might have forgetten a warning or two. Please be carefull when reading!
> 
> also The fic might sound a bit odd in places because I'm not a native English speaker but it was edited by the lovely, gorgeous, outsanding Skargasm that is and she helped me with all of those grammar and spelling mistakes that I simply can't seem to get rid of. Thank you so much for puttting up with me and my crasy oh-my-God-it'salmosttimetopostwhathashappenedwhyaminotready schedule.

It started after McCall joined the lacrosse team in 2011. He, the loser that couldn't get even one hour of PE without having to use his inhalator suddenly got so good at lacrosse that he skipped straight to first line after one lousy try out! Of course his game wasn't steady so Jackson wasn't really bothered with him. That was the case until it was. On every single practice that dick was better than everyone better than him and suddenly McCall wasn't something that he could overlook anymore.  
  
This kind of change did not happen overnight, certainly did not come out of nowhere, there had to be some kind of a reason and he was determined to get to the bottom of this!  
  
Soon Jackson realized that this McCall was very different from the one that he has grown up with. And it wasn't just the physical change that he noticed. He got straight A's most of the time and actually had a clique. A clique that did not include Stilinski, but that messed up Lahey kid and the busty blond that hasn't had any seizures since the beginning of the school year.  
  
How the fuck had he not noticed that!?!

* * *

  
  
The first real clue Jackson got was an offhand comment by a teammate that got his co captain so riled up that he broke the guy's arm in practice. He broke his fucking arm because he called him a flower boy. Not that Jackson knew what he was talking about because come on he might be a junky, but he wasn't a hippiе so this made even less sense after the violent confrontation but what was Google invented for if not for research!  
  
According to Urban Dictionary, flower boy was a boy or а man that was known for using Wolf's Bane. And Wolf's Bane was some kind of new drug that no one knew the side effects off, it was that new! Too new for him to risk it so he closed the tab and went back to work. Harris was a dick!

* * *

  
  
A month later McCall's grades dropped, but his game didn't, it got better.  
  
Jackson got a C on his project and suddenly got overwhelmed with first the need to strangle Harris and second get back into Lydia's good graces again.  
  
Uncle Google couldn't answer him any more than it could thirty days ago. Wolf's Bane was the shit if he suddenly were to decide that the druggies were trustworthy enough. Apparently it had already been banned for professional athletes and to no one's surprise was the most sought after drug for bodybuilders.

* * *

  
  
He watched their little group, hoping to see a downside of using, but there really didn’t seem to be one, well except for the bullying that is. He had never thought that the bullied could indeed become the bully and yet apparently it was one of the few truths and damn if it wasn't the funniest one!

  
Every time Stiles was slammed into a locker he couldn't help but snicker at the stupid look of indignation on his face.

  
Being friends apparently wasn't a big thing with Scott because Jackson has seen him occasionally slamming Isaac into a wall, or whatever hard surface was  in the  vicinity.

  
Then again why should it be. He was better than them.

  
Better than him.

  
There were so many, too many what ifs rolling around his head and he was tired of it. He had never been one to over-think things so why was he doing it now!? It isn't as if the Wolf's Bane had so many downsides anyway. Yes, it did make you angry and apparently violent to a degree, but then he was always angry and violent was his fucking middle name.

  
Then there were the good things that came out of using. He would be able to concentrate more and improve his grades. He would be stronger, faster on the field. He would see better and be able to fucking finally take the stupid contacts off.

  
It would basically make him better in every way that really mattered to him!

  
Also it wasn't like he would take it regularly. Maybe he would take a hit before a big game or before Chemistry (his GPA couldn't take one more C). It would be a sometimes thing, only when he needed it. He was strong enough to stop taking it if he wanted to.

  
It wasn't like it could happen to him.

* * *

  
Once the decision was taken it was easy for him to go back to his everyday life. The only thing left was to find a dealer although that proved to be easy enough. There was McCall who was the dealer in  school and Hale that was the one providing the drugs. Scott might be the more obvious choice, but did he really want his teammates to know that he was taking, no matter for how short period of time? No, so Hale it was.

* * *

  
  
That shit was expensive! Or maybe it was expensive for a Whittemore because Derek knew what he could afford and he was in fact the only dealer in town so he had no other choice but to buy from him.

  
Jackson bought two pills because you could not be sure with drugs as his research showed. The first time could be the exact opposite so you had to try a second one if you were into that kind of shit.

  
He really wasn't, but there was no other way so...

* * *

  
  
He took the first pill before a study session on a Tuesday and puked his guts up.  
  
Jackson decided to save the next pill for Friday. He had thought this through carefully. He would take it after the third period so that he could get used to the effects that hopefully would be the right ones this time, so that the effects would hopefully be winding down for practise. He did not want to have the coach on his back for being too good all of a sudden.

* * *

  
  
_Wolf's Bane was the shit!_

  
It was like the world came into focus all of a sudden. His whole body was on high alert because everything was too clear, too sharp, too loud. His fingertips itched from all of the things he had touched and he could remember things that he has never known he fucking knew in the first place. His brain worked seriously overtime!

  
Nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut and answered only when asked. He broke at least a couple of Pencils and cracked his ipad by lunchtime.  
  
  
Practise was nothing like it used to be. McCall bit the dust! And he was barely on the drug now, he had needed just a little push.  
  
  
He only took Wolf's Bane before games. One could never be cautious enough and he did not want to be one more figure in the statistic of teenage drug addicts.

* * *

  
  
Harris was a dick, he obviously did need to be on his game in Chemistry.

 

So Monday, Tuesday and Friday were also known as the pill days. Just two more days though, everything was going according to plan.

* * *

  
  
There was no way to get over this day without a pill. First there was school, then practice and also his father wanted  him to see where the money came from. He has obviously spent too much in the last two months.

* * *

  
  
Hale was a dick. Why were his prices so damn high! How the fuck could he get enough money to buy more when he was in the red again?

  
He did not use his ipad so much anyway. Why not sell it?

  
_Bliss._

* * *

  
  
„If you blow me." _If you fucking blow me._ How was that even real?! He may not have the two hundreds right now, but he did not have to be such a dick about it.

  
„Okay, you don’t do charity - message fucking received you asshole!" Jackson hated that smirk. The ‘you are beneath me’ smirk that was  this time aimed directed at him courtesy of one Derek fucking Hale sitting on the ratty couch in his burnt out shell of a house.

  
Jackson slammed the door on his way out.

* * *

  
  
The next day was possibly the worst day of his life.

  
It felt like all of the teachers gave him hell for not remembering everything they had ever fucking taught the kids in the last ten years. And the Coach was even a bigger dick when Greenberg managed to tackle him five times during practise.

  
Fucking Greenberg.

* * *

  
  
The floor was hard against his knees, the soot would be hell to clean up later.

  
Derek's dick was uncircumcised. Who the fuck had an uncircumcised dick these days anyway?

  
You have one Whittemore. You have one, one limp uncircumcised fucking dick right here in front of your face. The very first one that you are going to blow. And it is happening now, right now.

  
Jackson felt tightness in the chest, it felt like the air got somehow lost on the way to his lungs and he couldn't fucking inhale if his life depended on it.

 

Was he really going to do this?

  
„Are you gonna blow me princess or are you only gonna waste my time?"

  
It was not like he did not know what he was supposed to do. He had googled the shit out of blow-jobs the second he got home earlier today.

  
Take your time. Suck. Use your tongue. Use the back of your tongue. Mind your teeth. Give him texture. Lick, flick, nibble, suck. Deeptroath, but only if you can. Use your hand. Try to talk around the mouthful or moan, every kind of vibration feels good. Look at him while you are on your knees!

  
But now standing, kneeling, in his house, having the dick in  sight- it felt wrong, so so wrong. He did not want to do this.

  
„What do you like?” Yes, he should ask. They wrote that he should ask.

  
„For you to start you little shit.” He was so calm as if it was just another transaction or something. His cock did not even twitch and how was he supposed to get it hard? Wasn't a guy supposed to be at least half hard just from the possibility of a fucking blow-job? His research did not cover a How to get him hard chapter damn it!

  
He shuffled forward until he was settled between Derek’s spread legs, his gaze firmly planted on the prick hanging limply out of his underwear.

  
“Touch it already jackass. Or do you not want this?” The boy looked up at him, startled, his eyes focusing on the little plastic bag with a few yellow pills inside of it. He licked his lips and swallowed the spit that has gathered inside of his mouth at the promise of a hit.

  
The boy looked at the dick and lifted a trembling hand. He got a hold on the soft member and bent forward.  He took a curious lick at the head as he tried to stroke him to hardness.  
The coarse hair irritated his skin as he took it inside his mouth. Maybe a bit of sucking would do the trick.

  
Looking back at all of the times that he had criticized Lydia for making the blow-jobs as short as possible Jackson couldn’t really  blame her, only himself for putting her through that torture. He was fucking glad that he was a guy- his jaw was a definite plus.

  
And yet Derek was way too thick for him not to be sore afterward, damn it. How do girls even do this, it feels fucking awful! The bobbing, the licking, the-

  
„Show a little appreciation you slut." He knew that he shouldn't, _shouldn't_ look at him but it was a reflex really. He looked straight into his face and found him looking cockily down at him, all too pleased with himself. Jackson started to bob his head as his hands started to stroke the length firmly, wanting for this to be already over with. The boy closed his eyes not wanting to see him but was pulled forward suddenly and almost choked on his motherfucking dick.

  
„Look at me! I want for you to look at me." So he watched. He watched and sucked and nibled and choked some more on command and, when Derek said to, he let him slip out of his aching mouth.

  
„Stay where you are. Look at me." Jackson sat on his heels and tipped his head backwards, his eyes locking with Derek's for a second as he watched him jack off at a brutal pace.

  
It was strange to sit there and watch a guy finish himself off after you've blown him. That dick has been inside his mouth, it has been down his throat and now he was waiting for him to cum, possibly on his face and try to walk out with at least a bit of dignity.

  
Maybe if he tried to he would be able to forget how that felt. He could swipe the jizz off his face, walk on his merry way and never turn back again.

  
Jackson was brought back of his thoughts by thick ropes of sperm landing on his face. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the soft noises coming from the other man.

  
He felt Hale rubbing his fucking jizz on his skin with slow and sure strokes of his fingers. When he was as covered in spunk as he would ever get Derek slipped his fingers inside Jackson's mouth and firmly pushed against his tongue.

  
“Lick them clean.”The boy wanted to throw up. He gagged from the salty taste but Derek pushed harder against his tongue, smirk firmly on place.

  
„Suck.“ Derek’s cock twitched at the miserable look on his face.

* * *

  
  
He did not forget, couldn't forget. And the pot didn’t help either.

* * *

  
  
Jackson had a problem. He knew he had one and he had not even noticed when it has started. Anyway, maybe it was too late. It felt too late when he couldn't go to school, have practise, get it up.

  
Maybe it was the WB, maybe the pot. Probably could have been the red pills McCall gave him on Lahey's party for the first time the other month.

  
There right there, was the other problem. He could not remember when he started to hang around with the losers. These past few months were all just blurred together and he couldn’t even recall when was the last time he has spoken to Danny or anyone that wasn’t connected to the Hales in any way for that matter.

  
The Hales.

  
Derek had not requested anything from him since that day. But he could see it in his eyes in the roll of his hips when he walked towards him, he wanted him on his knees. And Jackson did not have the slightest idea what to do about it.

* * *

  
  
The next big thing on the calendar of BHHS was the formal, or it should have been if he had not made his life the clusterfuck that it was.

  
The truth was that he had no idea what he was even doing here. It was not like he could have nice time with those posers. Scott couldn’t even come and Lydia was with the dickhead twin number one. Not that he wanted to be with her per se, but that was low, even for her.

  
Then there was Isaac. He was fairly decent guy, making out with Erica on the dance floor right now but hey, no one could be perfect. And if she got him going then who was he to deny a guy a pussy or a mouth only because the attached to them body parts made the meanest bitch that he has ever had the misfortune to run across.

  
Anyway, Isaac was still his favorite guy to get high with. Maybe he would have a pill, or something, Jackson wasn’t too choosy, anything to get the party started.

  
They danced the three of them intertwined on the dancefloor, whispering in each other’s ears, touching, teasing. Isaac shared something that made the room spin and his mouth dry in all the good ways.

  
They stumbled out of hall, laughing. The night was much prettier anyway.

  
The field was soft and green and the stars were shining. Isaac’s mouth tasted like smoke but his fingers God his fingers were everywhere and his tongue was battling ferociously with his own.There was blond hair everywhere.

* * *

  
  
The next day there were whispers all around him, around them and he hated that. It was like he was pushed straight back into square number one again and he was everyone’s buisness.  
That time he knew there was no forgetting, no pretending because the WB running through his veins made sure that he did hear, did understand.

  
He will show them, he will show all of them who he really is at the game on Friday!

* * *

  
  
Derek wanted him to sell. „Since your daddy doesn’t give you enough money you should earn them in the old-fashioned way.”

  
Being a  dealer was not something he was good at, everyone knew him.  A dealer should be secretive, barely visible and always at the edge of your vision. And he has been screaming see me all of his life so far, that was everything he had ever done so a good dealer he most certainly was not.

* * *

  
  
The money was even less this month and Jackson wasn’t even sure what to do. What he could even do to get his hands on the large amount of cash that he needed in such a short time.  
He needed Wolf's Bane - he had to have a hit!

  
Otherwise he would just turn to the scared little boy that he was before he found out what he was capable of, what it made him capable of.

  
It was strange to associate yourself, your life and suceses with a drug and he knew God damn it, he knew he was pathetic and yet…

* * *

  
  
It never seemed to get easier, but maybe that was the point, Derek often said that he liked to see him cry. He liked to watch him choke on his dick, he liked to fuck his throat raw and to make his mouth split open and bloody.

  
The bad part, the most pathetic part for him was that he did not care. Jackson was just happy that he got it over with in the quickest way possible The boy blew him, gave him the little cash he had on him and got to get out.

  
He hated to blow him, hated every time he got on his knees for that dickwad. He hated him when he had to open his mouth wide and got his motherfucking dick shoved down his throat. He hated when Derek talked.

  
„Such a cock slut. Oh yeah, take that. Just lick it, lick me. Fuck yeah like that. Do you want my cum, you want it don’t you!? Swallow like a good little bitch, yeah, swallow down.”

  
The most mortifying part was that he has gotten better. He knew Derek’s dick better then he knew his own. He knew all of the tricks that would make him cum in under ten minutes flat and this was great and awful and useful all at the same time.

* * *

  
  
The more time that passed, the more entangled he got.

  
Derek liked to phone him in the middle of the night with a promise of a free hit if he got to the next town over to take the new shipment. His sister, Laura had found a trustworthy enough guy to deliver the ingredients to a locker in the bus station and someone had to take them to the Hale house.

  
According to Derek Jackson was the best guy for the job. „You are a Whittemore. Even now when they know that you’re fucked up they won’t risk stopping you.”

  
He liked to laugh at the irony that him, the son of the same prosecutor that convincted his uncle to twenty years in prison for murder, was his delivery guy.

* * *

  
  
“Ï want to try something different.”

  
Jackson was fidgeting nervously no matter how hard he tried to stay in one place, his body did not listen to him anymore. His muscles spasmed as he stubbornly looked at the floor of the newly renovated house.

  
Derek was sitting on the sofa, his arms stretched to the side, his dick hard inside the confines of his jeans and the boy knew that if he looked at his face he would see his stupid little smirk, superior asshole that he was.

  
As if he did not have his own demons!

  
The teenager tried to slide down the armchair but rather dropped gracelessly on his knees. He moved forward already stretching out his arms to the man’s legs as he was roughly pushed back. He landed on his ass and had no other way but to look up. Derek bent forward his palm gripping his neck firmly as he squeezed hard.

  
“Did I say that you could move slut? No I did not, so what do you think that you were doing here, huh?!” His nostril flared as he tried to rein in his anger.

  
Jackson whimpered as he tried to fold into himself.

  
Derek stood up abruptly dragging him on his feet. He pushed the boy backwards until he stumbled and tripped over the coffee table.

  
“Please, please please don't hurt me. Please I will do what I have to just please don’t-”

  
“Do you want the hit or should I give this” the man took a single dose out of his pocket.“to McCall. I bet he will be glad that you refused to take it.” Derek was standing over his sprawled body, long limbs still bent over the table as he tried to crawl backwards. “Stop this and answer me! Do you want a hit?”

  
He knew that he should say no he should say no and leave him to do whatever depraved thing he wanted to to McCall or Erica or god knows whoever was the new flavour of the week, but damn it, damn him he wanted it. He wanted it bad!

  
“Yes I want it. I want it, I'll do whatever you want. I want it.”The words flew out of his mouth without him even realising what he was  saying and it was too late to take them back.

  
The wolfish grin on Derek's face made his skin crawl.

* * *

  
The next thing he knew the teenager was sprawled on a mattress in the basement because the man did not want Jackson to dirty his bedroom. His jeans and shoes were off but he still had his t-shirt and socks on as he felt two strong hands firmly holding onto his hips and pulling him up and backwards.

  
Derek's jeans were rough against the skin on his inner thighs, the lube cold on his skin as he dripped a copious amount onto  his asshole. He felt stupid with the shirt sliding down his chest and his ass clenching in fear but since there wasn't gonna be a soothing hand on the small of his back or a lingering kiss on the nape of his neck he decided that he did not really care about anything that was happening.

  
He did not care that he was lying on the filthy mattress in the house of his dealer with his ass in the air waiting for a dick to pound into him so that he could get what he could have easily bought a few months prior.

  
_Your life is what you make of it_ his mother liked to say and that right here was what he managed to make of his own so he was going to take it. It was not like he was going to be the first guy to put out for a reason.

  
Many did it for money, other for fame, work. He did it for drugs, so what?! It's his life anyway and he would do as he fucking pleased!

  
It was strange, in a way it was downright confusing. Derek almost seemed like he cared. The first finger was a bitch to get in but the lube helped and the constant wiggling, twirling and whatever he was doing back there made his asshole almost loose enough for the second one in matter of minutes.

  
Then, before he even realized what was happening there was another hand squeezing his asscheek, grounding him with small touches, spreading him open.

  
He could not stifle the moan as he found his prostate and Jackson wanted to say _no_ not that please. Just get it over with. But he was silent because nothing but obedience was going to cut it and if Derek wanted to humiliate him he would do it no matter what he said or screamed at … well, the mattress.

* * *

  
Jackson’s dick was stiff and leaking as Derek deemed him ready and he wanted to scream out his frustration, rut against the sheets and cuss the whole world, every God and Goddess in existence because he did not want to enjoy this!

  
In the end it wasn't a pleasure but merely a necessity for his body to climax. Derek has pounded into him for what felt like hours without letting him to cum.

  
At some point he has taken something outside of his pocket, tied it around his dick and balls so Jackson could do nothing more but squirm helplessly for what felt for hours as Derek fucked the living shit out of him.

* * *

  
  
If someone has told him a year ago that he would become the booty call of a drug dealer, Jackson would have had a good laugh and beat the shit out of said someone purely on principle.

  
And now, now he would just tell him to fuck off and beat him into next week. He had never been a nice guy - so what! But he also knows that this is what he is. No, no this is what he liked to think of himself when the truth becomes too much.

  
In reality he is a slut but not for dicks but for drugs. He would open up his pussy wide for anyone that could provide. Or that's what Derek likes to tell him when he screws him until his asshole feels like a fucking moon crater or something.

* * *

  
  
There were a lot of first times tha he has had in the first year of his unfortunate and illicit affair with opiates. There were a lot of gay first times for him but only one man that he had them with.

  
No matter how much Derek liked to threaten him that he would make him sell his ass  for shit and giggles he never stepped over that line. There was something in the strong hold he had on his neck, his arms or legs, even his motherfucking face while he fucked him into whatever he was laying on, bent over or shoved against that let Jackkson know that this was the one thing  that was never going to happen.

  
Maybe it was, but who was he kidding? It was deranged but the boy believed that in his fucked up way Derek liked him enough to want to keep him by his side.

  
No matter what that might mean for Jackson himself.

* * *

  
  
The first time that the boy felt that strong hold on his neck was the first time that he tried to leave. The first time that he got out of Beacon Hills for a whole month of fucking awful, painful and delirious freedom.

  
It was a spur of the moment, nothing seriously thought through, but he had bought beforehand a bus ticket from the twin town of Beacon Hills on the other side of the highway.

  
Jackson left his porsche on the parking lot, got on the bus and took the battery out of his phone. It wouldn’t be wise to let the GPS lead them/him straight to him.

  
It wasn’t a surprise when he finished the cash in the first week. He did not have much to begin with but his life in Boston was a hell lot more expensive than the one he has left behind in Beacon Hills.

  
Wolf’s Bane was the same price though. The amphets were cheaper here, however the quallity that was another matter entirely.

  
It turned out that without the maintenance he got from his parents and the real world pushing back he has no idea what to do with himself. Money was a thing he got by selling his phone, by stealing, by promissing that he would pay them back.

  
He looked rich, felt rich, acted like a rich boy and there wasn’t a man that did not believe that he was a momma’s boy, that he would pay back in a week or so.

  
If not, they knew where to find him. He could always work his ass for all they cared

* * *

  
  
It turned out that he really should have smashed  the phone the minute he got out of the buss. The GPS led Derek in a matter of hours to the town and in a matter of days to him.

  
He would really have to plan ahead next time was Jackson’s first thought when he found himself slammed face first against the door of his room and his pants around his ankles.  
  
  
There is a numb pain in his backside and bruises all over for every day he has been away as Derek hauled him out of Boston and shoved him straight back into his old life.

* * *

 

  
The next time he was more careful and lasted longer, he had a month and a fucking half of freedom. This time Peter tracks him. The psychotic uncle that was released from prison for good behaviour after 15 years and the first thing he does is to beat the shit out of Jackson because no one, no one runs away from a Hale.

  
Not even a Whittemore.  
  
  
He knows now that there is not a way out.

  
There never was but he liked to pretend that there was a door number three for a while anyway. Who would not if presented with the life that he has had so far!?

  
Only twenty fucking years and they feel like a lifetime.  
  



End file.
